


Beyond the Reach of Language

by emansil



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 45/18 age discrepency, Angst, Bottoming from the Top, Cross Gen relationships, Fingering, Frotting, Fuck Or Die, M/M, Oral Sex, Unrequited Love, Veela Scorpius, Wings, demanding bttom, shattered hearts - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-11
Updated: 2015-10-27
Packaged: 2018-04-25 20:17:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4975081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emansil/pseuds/emansil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scorpius Malfoy has long been a frequent guest in the Potter residence. Only this time something was very different, and it was about to change Harry’s life in a way he would never have asked for. But once it had he could never imagine wanting it to be any other way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Beyond the Reach of Language

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for the Do_Me_Veela Fest of 2015. This started out to be a fic of fun and frivolity with lots of frisky sex. Instead it veered off into the dangerous neighborhood of extreme angst. No matter how I tried to bring it back under control, like a toddler just learning to run, it continued to run away from me. I’m pretty sure this is not the story the prompter envisioned. Still, I think there may be something to be enjoyed in it. Title comes from the short story "Art of Translation" by Benjamin Alire Saenz can be found in the collection, "Everything Begins and Ends at the Kentucky Club."
> 
> This story will be posted in four parts.

“Hey Dad. Welcome home.”

“Hi Daddy, did you have a good day?” 

Harry smiled with delight at the greeting of his two youngest, then stiffened with discomfort and confusion.  
Scorpius Malfoy lay stretched out on the sofa along with Albus and Lily. Albus sprawled in the corner, his long legs, crossed at the ankle, stretched out in front of him. Scorpius’s head rested on Albus’ lap, knees bent and bare feet resting on a sofa cushion. Lily lay on the floor, her feet and calves tucked up under Scorpius’s bent legs. The three of them entwined like the vines that ran along the stone wall at the back of the cottage. 

Scorpius’s presence at the Potter residence during the summer holidays had become practically a given. In fact, when Harry went to pick up his children at King's Cross, Scorpius was waiting with them, his trunk loaded on the same trolley as Lily and Albus's belongings. Harry should be used to him--and he had been. Harry should not feel this uncomfortable around him--but he did. Something about the young man's presence during this visit made Harry feel jagged and razor-scraped. As if he was slowly being skinned, fileted layer by layer, unnoticeable, until it was too late. 

“Hey guys. Scorpius,” he replied, nodding at them and forcing a smile in an attempt to keep the acrid edge out of his voice. Albus’s raised eyebrows, Lily’s scowl and the pinking of Scorpius’s cheeks, all told him he’d failed in that attempt. 

Harry sighed and crossed the room to the coat closet, the tingle at his back telling him he was being watched. From the corner of his eye, Harry could see Scorpius. His gaze, never wavering, followed Harry’s every step. These occurrences were happening more often of late. Anytime he and Scorpius were in a room together, Scorpius watched him, tracking him. Confused and uncomfortable with the situation, Harry found excuse after excuse to leave as soon as possible. 

He shrugged out of his Healer robes and hung them up. He’d surprised everyone when he’d walked out of the Auror office one evening and never returned. A week later he’d found himself enrolling in advanced Healer training, with a specialty in Pediatrics. The perfect occupation for him, Harry enjoyed being surrounded by young people, from infants to young adults. Their laughter and their tears, both honest emotions, were a lot easier for him to handle than the constant manouvering on display at the Ministry. Even the Auror’s office was not immune to it. 

Then why was Scorpius’s presence causing him such discomfort? He’d been thrilled that Albus had found a friend on his first trip on the Hogwarts Express, and even happier when Lily had sorted into the same house as Scorpius, and the young man had taken her under his wing. The three of them had bonded in an instant and enduring friendship, reminding Harry of his own still lasting relationship with Hermione and Ron. Lily and Scorpius had both sorted Ravenclaw, while Albus, the odd man out had been delegated to Slytherin the moment the Sorting Hat had touched his head. Harry had instantly welcomed Malfoy’s son as a part-time member of the Potter household. Even Ginny had enjoyed his company.

Over the past six years, Scorpius had spent countless hours and days at the various Potter residences. Harry had found him to be a delightful boy and a charming young man. Both early risers, they’d share their morning cuppas and chat about their days and lives while Harry made breakfast for the rest of his still sleeping family. 

The quiet and peaceful calm of those early mornings opened up avenues of companionship they’d probably never had shared otherwise. Discussing current and past events, the latest scandals at the Ministry, who was top of the Quidditch polls, as well as the Muggle rugby teams Scorpius followed, the morning would fly by. Scorpius shared his feelings about his mum and dad continuing to live in the same house, though she spent most of her nights away and with her lover. He had been there as Harry began to make sense of Ginny and his separation and then divorce, along with many other essential and non-essential conversations. 

When Harry had received the owl containing the invitation to Ginny and Oliver’s wedding confirming that his marriage was officially over, Scorpius had been the one that discovered him in tears. Harry had known his marriage was no longer workable, given his newly admitted proclivity for the male sex, he had loved her. The ending had all but devastated him. Scorpius had promised Harry that he’d not share what he had seen with anyone and to the best of his knowledge, Scorpius had kept his word. 

Lately though, just being in Scorpius’s presence set Harry’s nerves all a-jitter, as if he’d just consumed several triple espressos from the coffee shop at St Mungo’s. Something about the young man had changed since the winter holidays, or maybe it was he who had changed. Harry wasn’t sure, only that he found himself incapable of settling down. Drawn to being in the same room as Scorpius only to feel the urge to jump up and leave again the moment he sat down. Never close enough, but always to close for comfort.

Unable to sleep through the night since Scorpius’s arrival a week ago, Harry often found himself twisting and turning, until the bed clothes all but tied themselves around him. Finally giving it up as a lost cause, he’d crawl out of bed. Sometimes he’d study, wanting to stay current on the newest theories and practices of wizarding Healing. 

Other times, more often than not—he’d find himself in front of the computer screen flipping through the various porn sites. Ones that featured long-legged blond males usually had him digging in his desk drawer for his bank-card information. That the face in his fantasies, as he’d spilled into and over his hand, bore a striking resemblance to Scorpius Malfoy, Harry simply refused to acknowledge. He absolutely was not turned on by his son’s (and daughter’s) best friend. 

Scorpius still waited for him at the breakfast table each morning. And each morning since the three of them had arrived, Harry found an excuse not to be there. 

***

“Daddy! Please!” Albus' panicked voice and the use of the familiar “Daddy” jolted Harry awake and out of the bed. Lil’s frightened cry joined her brother's. Grabbing his robe, Harry raced down the hall as Lily ran out of Albus’s room towards him. 

“It’s Scorpius,” Lily’s sobbed. “Something’s wrong.” 

Harry pushed past her and into Albus’s room, Lily following on his heels. 

Albus shot up at Harry’s entrance from where he’d been squatting next to Scorpius. Albus’s lips were a torn and bloody mess where he had chewed them. A habit he’d had since he was a toddler, even now his teeth gnawed at the loose bits of skin causing even more blood to seep to the surface. 

Scorpius lay curled on the floor, his long, thin arms wrapped tightly around his knees. His complexion had gone to a pasty gray, almost matching his sweat-matted hair. Soft moans carried the weight of the young man's pain as he curled in on himself even tighter, as if trying to make himself as small as possible.)

Harry’s stomach constricted. The young man was truly ill. Without pause, Harry shifted into Healer mode. This was more than a patient, this was his kids’ best friend, someone Harry knew and cared about. 

“It’s never been this bad before,” Albus said, his glance shifting to Harry. “Help him,” he pleaded. Lily standing next to her dad nodded her agreement, her gaze a silent plea. 

Harry dropped to the floor next to Scorpius, only to get slugged as the young man suddenly tensed and flung out his arms and legs. His back arched up off the floor, the extremities rigid and tense, as if hit with a strong _Petrificus Totalus_. Teeth clenched in a grimace of pain, his eyes stretched wide and impossibly open, incapable of closing. Eyes that looked at Harry with such despair and longing, Harry was momentarily stunned. 

“Albus, run get my potions bag. I’ll need to sedate him before I can examine him.” 

Albus whirled to sprint down the hall to Harry’s office, when Scorpius’s voice, rough and raw stopped him. “No. No potions.” His speech was low and strained. “Potions won’t do any good. Just give me a moment.” He ran the tip of his tongue along his dry lips and then snarled in pain as his body jerked and he again coiled back into the fetal position. 

After yet, another brutal body spasm, Scorpius at last laid still, the tension in his body slowly relaxing. Harry’s attention remained focused on his patient, looking for anything that might aid him in his diagnosis. Scorpius’s stomach began to expand and contract repeatedly. 

Recognising the signs, Harry reached out his hand to gently roll him over to his side and gasped, at the unexpected reaction he had at the feel of Scorpius under his fingertips. Skin smooth and sensual that demanded to be stroked. Muscles lean and fluid, that rippled along the shoulders and upper back fueling the rush of blood to Harry’s cock, leaving him hard and aching with a no thought but that of complete possession. 

Horrified Harry jerked his hand away. 

Scorpius promptly vomited all over the battered Persian run Albus had rescued from Number 12 Grimmauld. Bewildered and shaken, Harry managed to cast a quick vanishing spell before the sick-up contributed to the myriad of odors that already clung to ancient silken threads. 

The others stared at him, confusion on their faces. He was a Healer, for fuck’s sake. Touching his patient was a requirement of the calling. He _needed_ to get some fucking control and take care of this patient. Harry tamped down on his lust and held Scorpius’s hair away from his face, rubbing Scorpius’s back and shoulders with his free hand. Harry's fingers stumbled over strange ridges along Scorpius’s shoulder blades, pulsing with fiery heat that nearly scorched his fingers. Desire fueled in him, burning with a need to have Scorpius, naked and hard, writhing below him. 

Mortified, Harry turned away from others and pulled his robe closer hoping to conceal the proof of his arousal that the cotton knit of his pyjamas did nothing to hide. He swallowed deeply, pushing down, way down, every inappropriate thought and feeling he was having.

His internal struggle hidden from the others, Harry returned to soothing Scorpius with his touch. Rubbing his back and shoulders, Harry cooed at him, like the sometimes did with his younger patients. Told him he was fine, he’d be okay, Harry was there; Harry would take care of him. There was nothing for Scorpius to worry about. Exhausted, Scorpius rolled onto his back and closed his eyes. 

So still was he, that Harry, sure that Scorpius had fallen asleep, relaxed. But when he tried to pull away, Scorpius’s hand wrapped his long fingers around Harry’s wrist and refused to let go. 

*** 

After a brief, but heated discussion, and engaging his stern parental voice Harry convinced his two youngest children to return to bed. He would keep watch over Scorpius. 

Still too weak to walk on his own, Harry levitated Scorpius down the hall to the room James old room. An added desk and some extra bookshelves had converted it from just a bedroom into a part-time office as well. Scorpius still had not let go of his arm, making the journey a difficult one. But the complexity of executing a levitation spell with only one hand proved to be a welcome distraction, allowing Harry to focus on the magic and not his overwhelming desires. 

Then again, maybe he really didn’t want to overcome his desires, maybe this was exactly what he wanted. To feel something he’d not felt in the years since his and Gin’s divorce. Desire. Passion. Pure unbridled lust that seared through him, lighting his blood and setting his nerve endings on fire. 

Curled on the bed, Scorpius dozed quietly, his arm outstretched. The worst of the attack over, he was no longer wracked with those terrible spasms. Still at a loss as to what had caused the attack, Harry watched him sleeping; wanting only to verify that whatever had caused the seizures was no longer a concern. He _accioed_ his oversized, squishy armchair next to the bed and settled in. 

Scorpius’s grip on his arm had lightened, but still refused to let go. If he was truthful, Harry would have to admit he didn’t want him to let go. Periodically the young man would shiver in his sleep, from cold or release of this earlier tension was unclear. A duvet lay across the end of the bed, Harry manouvered it with his one hand, until he managed to spread it over Scorpius. 

Sighing contentedly, Scorpius drew Harry’s wrist in closer to his chest, holding it just under his chin. Soft breaths against Harry’s skin were like a spread of fire in a dry forest. It started as a barely there flame, hardly noticeable, but soon grew into a roaring inferno of want. His other hand hovering over Scorpius, Harry struggled with the urge to run the tips of his fingers along that that smooth flesh. Skin so marble pale it should be cool to the touch, but Harry knew it would be as warm as if kissed by the sun. He wanted to drag his tongue along the heated skin of shoulders and throat, tasting the salt-flavored sweat that remained. Harry blinked and shook his head, resolving to return his hand to his own side, but still it remained, not touching but close enough that he could feel the body heat rising. 

Worn out by the events of the evening, and his own bubbling cauldron of emotions and physical desires, Harry at last fell into an exhausted sleep. His last thought before falling asleep was of the strange and scorching-to-the-touch ridges he’d felt along Scorpius’s back. And Albus’s words, “It’s never been this bad before.” In some way, Harry knew, these two things were related, but at the moment he just couldn’t make two and two come out to four. 

Harry’s dreams that night were wild and exotic, featuring large flying creatures, with the most beautiful wings he’d ever seen. The colours bright yet subtly blended together like sunrise or sunset, the morning's dawn or the evening’s twilight, each unique in their own way. Harry was left with a desire to run his fingers through the soft feathers, and stroke the smooth outer wings. He never saw the faces. 

The dreams turned erotic, pornographic even, as one of the winged creatures striped Harry naked, and caressed him with his wings, surprisingly more flexible, yet stronger than he would have thought. The creature buried his face in the crook of Harry's neck, nipping along his clavicle and collarbone, leaving the sharp sting of his bites. 

***

Harry woke with a cry, his neck pulsing with pain. The bites were real. The second thing he became aware of, overriding all other thought, including the pain, was the exquisite pleasure of someone rubbing against his cock. Harry’s eyes flew open. Scorpius straddled him, his long legs hanging off either side of the chair, now transfigured into something hard-backed and armless. Purple pyjama bottoms hung low on slender hips, his groin pressed against Harry’s. Cock to cock, grinding against Harry, sharp nips at his neck. No words were spoken, just desperate frotting with unabashed abandon. 

Pain disappeared from Harry’s mind, replaced by pleasure, and a strong sense that he had been waiting for this for years, maybe his entire life. All he’d have to do was to raise his arms and curl his fingers around the jutting bones of Scorpius’s hips to hold him in place. 

The hold on Harry’s arm tightened, fingers curved and shaped like talons gripped his upper arms, holding him prisoner. A predatory creature held Harry its clutches, preventing any attempt at escape. Its wings were open and wide, silvery grey and varying shades of purple. Harry had no thoughts of escaping, only wanted to stay where he was, never leaving. He tightened the curl of his fingers on Scorpius’s hips, pulling him more firmly against this throbbing cock. 

Harry closed his eyes, riding out the pleasure. Only the delicious pressure against his cock and the overall rightness of holding Scorpius against him held any meaning in that moment. Nothing interfered with Harry’s intense joy in that moment. Nothing else mattered except to keep Scorpius pressed against him and those glorious wings surrounding them. 

_Wings!_ Harry’s eyes flew open again. Shades of grey from palest silver to dark pewter and every hue in between blended with miniscule sections of purple. The colours ranged from pale lavender to the same deep rich violet of Scorpius’s pajamas. Soft whooshing sound as the wings gently fluttered; a light breeze blew against Harry’s skin from the same movement, and the strong earthy scent they emitted surrounding him. 

His orgasm was imminent, unstoppable. A Bludger to the head couldn’t have stopped it. Just a few more, was all he needed. Then horribly, pathetically, life altering devastatingly, the friction stopped.

Scorpius stilled, stiffened and arched his back, all of his mass centered on that one small section of their connected bodies. Crowing in triumph, Scorpius’s orgasm dampened Harry’s pyjama bottoms and splattered hot and sticky against his stomach. The smell of sex and come visceral to Harry’s senses. Scorpius collapsed against him, his face buried in the crook of Harry’s neck. Warm breath heated Harry’s sweat chilled skin; Scorpius’s mouth licked and nipped at the juncture in a gesture of worship.

Harry still clung to the edge, needing that final touch to tumble into Nirvana. He drove upward with his crotch, looking for that last bit of pressure. 

Scorpius pushed off Harry and fell to his knees. Hands and fingers, returned to normal, spread Harry’s legs and Scorpius crawled between them. Sitting back on his haunches, Scorpius stared at Harry’s pyjama-clad crotch, now stiffened with drying and sticky come. He leaned forward and drew the flat of his tongue up the length of Harry’s cock through the soft cotton of well-washed pyjamas. The dampness of his tongue adding sparks to the fire already raging in Harry. He bit back a groan of pleasure, his teeth sinking in to his lower lip. 

Tucking his thumbs into the waistband, Scorpius stretched the material over Harry’s throbbing cock and lowered the stained and rumpled bottoms. Looking up at him from under the fringe that fell across his forehead, Scorpius smirked at him, and leaned forward, his lips wrapped around the head of Harry’s prick. Licking and teasing at it with his tongue. Harry bucked upward, crying out when the tongue dipped beneath the fore-skin, capturing the pre-come that pooled there. 

His fingers threading through Scorpius’s hair, Harry held his head cupped in the palm of this hand. The texture still matted from his earlier fevered condition. Harry almost lost himself in the depths of Scorpius’s eyes. Soft marine blue eyes focused solely on Harry. Everything focused on Harry and he was overcome with the strangest feeling that if he, Harry, wasn’t there, that Scorpius would somehow cease to exist. But that was stupid, that didn’t make any sense. Yet, Harry knew instinctively that what he was feeling, what he was thinking was real. And in that moment, Harry wanted to be everything that Scorpius needed him to be.

Scorpius pressed the tip of his finger against Harry’s lip and nodded. Harry drew the finger into his mouth coating it with his saliva. Tugged forward to where only the very edge of his arse was perched on the edge of the chair, Harry waited. The saliva slicked finger circled against Harry’s rim, then pushed in. Scorpius’s tongue lapped at the head of his cock eagerly waiting. 

Harry came with shouted obscenities, his orgasm rushing out of him and spilling into Scorpius’s mouth. Scorpius swallowed it all and licked Harry clean. He drew back onto his haunches and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. 

Returning the chair to its original form, Harry pulled Scorpius into his lap savouring the taste of his tongue and mouth. Delving and exploring, Scorpius met him stroke for stroke. Their tongues twisting and sliding together, each mapped the interior of the other’s mouths. The tips of his fingers moved lightly across Scorpius’s skin. Soft kisses pressed against flesh that covered the hard bones of the jaws and the corners of the mouth, wanting only to feel its warmth against his lips. Before long the excitement of the day began to wash away and need to rest grew. 

Harry nudged Scorpius gently with his shoulder. Scorpius stood, still leaning against Harry. Together they crossed the few inches that separated the chair from the bed. The wings already retreated, gone. Only the ridges along his shoulder blades, once again cool to the touch, any proof of their existence. Harry tugged the duvet up and over them, and wrapped himself around Scorpius. 

Almost asleep, Harry was struck by the powerful onslaught of memories of Albus and Scorpius together. The gentle way they had of talking soft and low to one another, as if only they existed. Their small and intimate ways of touching each other, the hand placed to the small of the back; the brief touch to the wrist when they pointed something out to the other. The way Albus brushed the fringe back out of Scorpius’s face with such care. 

And Harry knew beyond any doubt that Albus was in love with the boy Harry currently held in his arms. And now that Harry had him, how was he ever going to be able to let Scorpius go, even if it was for his own son?

tbc


	2. Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scorpius Malfoy has long been a frequent guest in the Potter residence. Only this time something was very different, and it was about to change Harry’s life in a way he would never have asked for. But once it had he could never imagine wanting it to be any other way.

Part 2 

How had he missed it? How had he: Harry Potter, the great Auror; he, Harry Potter, the renowned Healer; or even he, Harry Potter, champion Seeker and killer of Dark Lords, not seen and understood the meaning behind those intimate displays of affection. How had he missed the glaring signs of what was happening? 

Harry lay in the bed staring at the ceiling. At long last, the soft yet rumbling sounds of Scorpius’s snoring told Harry that it was now safe to leave. Once he’d extracted himself from Scorpius’s grip, Harry moved himself and the chair to the other side of the room. If he happened to fall asleep, little chance of that, the motion detection spells he’d set would alert him to any movement in the room. As a Healer, his responsibility was to observe his patient through the night. 

Shadows cast by the light of the moon danced across the room as Harry watched Scorpius sleeping. Years had passed since he’d felt this drawn to another person. Thirty years before, he’d been sixteen and just beginning to understand the feelings that his best mate’s younger sister stirred in him. Feelings he never would have imagined having for her. 

And now, here he was struck dumb by the realisation that he was again experiencing those same feelings. That once again, the easy camaraderie he had shared with someone he’d only ever thought of as a friend, had as that one time before, inexplicably developed into something deeper and richer than he was prepared for. 

Feelings so new, so unexpected, he hadn’t even realised he had them, until Scorpius was in his arms. The feel of the young man’s body pressed against his, his responses to each and every one of Harry’s touches. The way he’d clung to Harry while he rode out his orgasm, the dreamlike memory of Scorpius’s mouth on Harry’s cock, hot and wet. Above all the intensity with which Scorpius watched his every move, as if he feared Harry might disappear before his eyes. Emotions and reminiscences spiraled their way from Harry’s cock and brain and into his heart. 

One by one, he took them out and examined them, holding them close to him, just for the fewest of moments. Then he did the right thing, the fatherly thing, the “daddy” thing, and pushed them back down, deep into the very marrow of his being. It didn’t matter what he wanted. 

It didn’t matter that Scorpius Malfoy just might be the one Harry had been looking for. And that he had wings! Beautiful and gorgeous wings! Was he a Veela? Why else would he have wings? Were the Malfoys’ Veelas? Had Malfoy had wings while they were at school together? Harry had never found him to be anywhere close to irresistible, though Malfoy’s arse had filled out a pair of trousers nicely, as he recalled. Harry had just had mind blowing sex with Scorpius, at Scorpius’s insistence. Was it possible that he was Scorpius’s mate? 

All of these thoughts and more ran through Harry’s head at one time. He didn’t know what to think, except that he may have finally found the one he’d been waiting years for, and it was all for naught. All that matter was his son, and that Albus was in love with that same person. 

Whatever this was that was happening between Harry and Scorpius, Harry was going to have to put an end to it. His choices were to break his son’s heart, or crush down his own dreams of Scorpius, and continue as he had been, not even twelve hours ago, lonely and alone. There was no choice. His only option was to return to what had been. 

But if he truly was Scorpius’s Veela mate, which he strongly suspected, then what? What would his rejection of Scorpius do to him? What happened to Veelas if their mates rejected them? And how would all this affect Albus? One Floo call to Hermione and all his questions would be answered, but knowing Hermione, she’d have even more questions than answers and the thought of off those questions exhausted him more than he already was. 

*** 

Harry jerked awake to the blaring sounds and flashing lights of the motion detector. Somehow through his struggles and worries, his exhaustion had prevailed and he’d fallen asleep after all. 

Scorpius was crossing the room towards him. His thin t-shirt now ripped and hanging in shreds over his shoulders and chest, barely managing to cover him. His movements slow and studied as if each motion caused him untold agony, his expressions a mix of fear and pain, and most of all despair. Gone was the glowing skin, gone was the sparkle in his eyes, gone was the smile of contentment. Instead it was if he could barely manage to cross the few feet of the room on his own will power. 

“Why did you leave me? I need… I mean you’ve got to…Please, don’t you understand. I. I. I, oh gods, I need you to fuck me. Now. The creature is desperate for it, demanding it.” With each word, Scorpius voice grew more ragged and reedy. The whites of his eyes that surrounded his irises receding more and more until they all but disappeared. The open and honest blue grey of his irises growing darker and deeper, black even, until they’d become the unfathomed depths of a predatory animal, a creature that cared about nothing but its own survival. “I don’t know what it’s capable of, if it doesn’t get it. I know you might not want me, but please. Can you, will you?” 

Harry sat in silence, unsure of his response. Oh, he could do what Scorpius needed and what Harry wanted. Only what would the consequences of such an action be? The struggle inside Harry was one of the most difficult he’d faced in a very long time. How could he cause his son such needless pain? Yet clearly from Scorpius’s appearance, if Harry didn’t give him what he needed, there would be repercussions from that as well, possible even more dangerous ones.

For right or for wrong, Harry made his decision. He stood and nodded to Scorpius. “I’m sorry. I can’t.”

“What the fuck do you mean, you can’t? You seemed to do a pretty good job of it last night. Trust me, there’s nothing wrong with your equipment, you’re perfectly capable.” In the blink of an eye, his expression had gone from one of desperation to hard and calculating as his focus lasered onto Harry’s crotch. 

“No, I can’t do that to Albus. He loves you.” 

Scorpius stared at him in what looked to be a toss-up between absolute horror and complete incredulity. Then he laughed the sound harsh and piercing. “Gah, my father was right about you. You’re such a sanctimonious but noble idiot. Don’t you know anything about Veelas and what happens if they don’t bond with their mate?”

In that moment, Harry knew beyond any doubt exactly whose son Scorpius was. How he’d allowed himself to fall for the offspring of that pompous pureblood, Harry didn’t know. He didn’t even reply to the allegations, just rose from the chair and turned towards the door. He was going to bed, in his own room. 

“Wait! I’m sorry. That was a horrible thing to say, but truly if you knew, you’d understand.” Scorpius reached out to touch him, but pulled his hand back. The talons on his hand were fully formed. 

“Explain it to me then,” Harry sighed. 

“Look at me. I’ve got talons, fucking claws. Do normal people have claws? No. Do normal people have wings? No, they do not. Do normal people feel they’re going to go out of the skin, if they don’t get fucked by their mate? No. This is not normal, I’m not normal, none of this is normal. But I need you and you want me. You fucking loved what we did, don’t deny it. I can see it. I know it.

"Stop worrying about doing the right thing and do what’s bloody needed. Take me to bed and fuck me until I’m shaking so bad I can barely stand, and I’m so full of your come its running down my thighs. You’re my mate. As far as the creature in me is concerned, you’re the only one that matters. The way my body reacts to you, how I crave your touch, confirms that you are my mate. And now that I know, the Veela does as well. And it has certain demands. If it doesn’t get what it wants, what it needs, what I need, I’m afraid it could hurt you.” 

“What? You mean you’ll force me to have sex with you?” Harry interrupted unable to believe what he was hearing.

“I could. I wouldn’t want to. I’d never want to hurt you, but it’s possible.” Scorpius lowered his head, his voice barely a whisper. “The pain becomes so unbearable there are only two options. Forcing the other, or wanting only to die to not have to suffer through the pain. It won’t’ be immediate, but those are the only options – if it doesn’t get what it needs. Are either of those, what you want?” 

Harry slowly shook his head. “No, of course not…but Albus.” 

“Don’t worry about Albus. He’ll be fine. He understands. More than you ever will.” Harry wouldn’t have thought it possible, but Scorpius’ voice was even lower, and held a note of resignation. 

A chant like a Mantra playing over and over in his head, _please let Albus not hate me because of this. Please help him to understand, there really was only one right answer._ Harry crossed the foot and a half between them and reached out his hand to Scorpius. 

*** 

The moment Harry touched him he could feel the tension leaving Scorpius’s body as he relaxed against Harry. Together they crossed to the bed, hand in hand, the journey seeming to take forever. Harry’s own relief at once again touching Scorpius was staggering. It was then he fully understood. This wasn’t just about Albus; it was his own heart Harry feared the destruction of. He’d not felt so right with another person since Ginny, maybe even more so. He pressed Scorpius down on to the center of the bed and followed him down, covering any place he could reach, his mouth, his face, his neck, every inch of naked skin with barely there kisses. 

Scorpius put his hand up, stopping him. “I appreciate what you’re doing; your attempt at romance, but this isn’t the time. I need you inside of me. The creature is growing stronger, forcing its way out.”

Harry backed away rolling Scorpius onto his stomach. Immediately Scorpius was on his hands and knees, his head resting on the mattress offering himself to Harry. Without thought, Harry coated his cock and his fingers with the tube of lube he’d found tangled in the covers from the last time he’d wanked to visions of a slender blond male. Now, he understood who the man of his fantasies was. He pressed a finger into Scorpius’ hole and gasped as it greedily sucked it inside. Spellbound, Harry withdrew and then pressed it back in, fucking Scorpius with first one finger and then two, then a third as well, the rim growing red and hot to the touch. 

Scorpius squirmed beneath him. “Fuck, Harry, please. More. I need more. I need your cock.”   
But Harry wasn’t ready to fuck, Harry wanted to taste. His fingers still moving in and out of Scorpius, continuing to stretch his rim, Harry leaned forward, licking a stripe from just below Scorpius’s balls. His tongue searching for the hole that grasped at whatever Harry brought near it. His tongue circling the rim over and over, saliva filled his mouth and then the gaping hole. The tip of his tongue flicked in small shots just barely past the pulsing rim. He removed his fingers and pressed the rest of his tongue in farther, fucking him now with his tongue, then again with his fingers. Never did he allow him even a second to recover from the sensory overload. 

“Ah fuck, Harry,” Scorpius whimpered into the mattress, arching his back. Scorpius took it all, whatever Harry gave him, deep into his channel. Harry knew it was time to fuck him. Scorpius was all but vibrating with tension. Swear poured down his back and he mewled his pleasure and his need for more. Still Harry held back, wanting to stay in control and knowing he had the power to reduce Scorpius to this wordless whine. Even more he feared that once he did as Scorpius begged, that Scorpius would somehow, some way, no longer need him the way he currently did and Harry couldn’t stand the thought of no longer being needed. 

Harry moved back on to his haunches still working his fingers in and out of Scorpius. When he finally removed them, he soothed Scorpius’ whimper of loss. Coating his cock liberally with the slippery gel, he pushed forward, little by little, giving Scorpius time to adjust to the intrusion. His urge to protect this young man from pain at war with an even more primal need to drive into that tight slick heat, and claim Scorpius as his. 

The pulsing heat from where the wings would release was scorching. Harry leaned over Scorpius’s back and ran the flat of his tongue over the nubs. Under the skin, they thickened, lengthened and expanded; the wings about to unfurl. Directly in their path, he’d be knocked senseless once they sprang to life. 

He flipped them over. Following his lead, Scorpius squatted over Harry's cock, taking in just the head. Harry thrust up, but let Scorpius know he was now the one in control of exactly how much of Harry’s cock he could take. Scorpius bent down, his mouth a furnace of wet heat. The sharpness of his teeth slashed across Harry’s lips leaving them ripped and bloody. The kiss was rough and desperate and over too soon. 

He eased his way down onto Harry’s cock, taking every inch deep inside him. He rode Harry’s cock, first slow then the speed increased as the rhythmic slick slide up and down Harry’s cock faltered, lost the beat. Scorpius’s face glowed in tension and pleasure. Every movement Scorpius made, every emotion that crossed his face, Harry took the moment and the memory and held it deep into the very core of his being. Harry thrust up into him, wanting to give him the fucking his Veela craved, wanting to prove he was worthy of being, once again, the chosen one. 

His head tilted up and back arched, wings burst out of Scorpius, wide and huge and as glorious as before. They covered the expanse of the small bed, stopping just shy of the wall. The mouth of the creature Scorpius now was, opened wide, its cry that of a predatory bird preparing to rip apart its prey and devour it with its talons and strong beak. The eyes black and beady with conquest, no longer seemed to recognise Harry as friend or lover, but only prey. 

For a brief second, Harry felt genuine fear. In the grip of a human sized, winged and wild creature was a dangerous place to be. There was nothing he could do, he just had to trust. 

Scorpius rode out his orgasm, continuing to take Harry’s cock deep into him, and despite the fear Harry had just experienced, the clench of his arse around Harry’s cock was too much and Harry’s own release exploded out of him and shot deep into Scorpius. 

The harsh _Caw, Caw, cawing_ of earlier had softened to the soft coos and musicals trills of songbirds. Delighted, Harry gently ran his fingers through the feathers of the wings that surrounded him, surrounded them. 

The eyes once again the clear blue grey of before, Scorpius smiled down at Harry. His fingers returned to the slender and gently tapered shape before he caressed Harry’s face. He leaned down and met Harry as he raised his head. The kiss they shared soft and gentle

***

Tangled in a heap of sheets and the duvet, they again worked to catch their breath. The sun had risen an hour or so previously, and with it Harry’s desire for Scorpius. He had wakened Scorpius by rubbing his erection against the cleft in Scorpius’s arse. Scorpius had responded eagerly, rocking back onto it. Still loose and wet from the previous fuck, Harry had slid in easily.

Their coupling to the lazy eye of the morning sun had lost some of its urgency. It was gentler, yet deeper and more thorough. The feel of Scorpius under him, as he rolled his hips, fucking Scorpius slow and thorough, gave Harry such a sense of rightness. There would have to be an ending, Harry knew. Albus was his son. But for now, Scorpius was beneath him and was rocking back to meet every tilt of his hips, the pace slow and easy. 

*** 

“Scorpius? Dad?” Albus’s voice called softly from the other side of the door. “Hey, are you two up? How’s everything? Are you feeling better? I couldn’t sleep any longer; I just wanted to check on Scorpius. Is he alright? ” The worry in his son’s voice only added to the emotions that crowded Harry’s mind. 

Without thought, Harry threw both a locking spell and _Silencio_ at the door. He turned to Scorpius in a panic. It would not do to have Albus find them like this. The sheets rumpled and stained and the room smelling of sex. With one motion Harry rose from the bed and pulling the covers off at the same time managed to dump Scorpius onto the floor as he did. The young man scowled at him then shrugged and stood. 

Harry gulped. Miles of long lean legs and jutting hard cock stood naked in front of him. Filled with an instant and undeniable need to have legs draped over his shoulders, Harry moved towards Scorpius. 

“Hey, would someone please answer me. I know you’re awake. Remember you’re the two early risers.” Shuffling outside the door tore Harry from the porn movie playing in his head and returned him to the more immediate dilemma.

“ _Finite Incantatum_ Harry pointed his wand at the door, canceling the silencing spell. “Just a moment Al, I’m just finishing up a diagnostic exam on him. We’ll be right there.” 

Scorpius raised his eyebrows, grinning at him. A sultry look came into his eyes, his hand dropping to his cock stroking it slow and methodically as he stalked towards Harry. “Diagnose away, Healer Potter. You and I both know you’ve got the remedy.” 

The hand, smooth skinned and nails buffed and tapered moved languidly over his cock. Harry stopped spellbound, as if frozen in time. His mouth devoid of all saliva, he licked at his lips repeatedly trying to gain access to whatever moisture that remained. Only the feel, the weight and the heaviness of that cock in his mouth would return any moisture to the desert that was his mouth. He moved slowly forward, wanting only to be on his knees, his mouth opened and ready to be filled. 

The shuffling of feet outside their door returned reality and he turned away at the last moment. “Put that away, and get dressed,” he hissed

“Spoil sport,” Scorpius mumbled behind him. Harry grabbed his clothes from the rumpled heap on the floor. A quick cleansing spell managed to rid them of the more odious stains. When he turned around, Scorpius was again wearing his deep purple pajama bottoms from the night before. Shirtless, the torn shreds if the t-shirt now tossed in the rubbish tin his skin glowed with health and vitality. 

“You wouldn’t know you’d ever been sick, from looking at you now,” Harry said.

“As long as you keep me well-fucked I’ll continue to look, and be, this healthy,” Scorpius replied as he rummaged through Harry’s drawer, looking for shirt he could wear. 

“What do you mean, well-fucked?” Harry asked, as he spelled the shirt to resemble the one torn to pieces now lying in the rubbish bin. “How often is considered well-fucked?” He tried to keep his tone steady, but inside, his emotions were churning like an old-fashioned ice cream maker. It wasn’t over. There’d be other chances. But there was also Albus…

“How often have we fucked since last night?" Scorpius asked, but didn’t wait for Harry’s answer before he said. “It usually takes anywhere from twenty four to thirty six hours for the bond to make a lasting hold. The first twelve to twenty are the most critical. Sexual intimacy needs to take place at least every two hours, actually even more. The bond needs a good solid foundation for it to hold. After that we’ll have to see.” 

“Erm, that’s a lot. Don’t forget I’m not seventeen like you are, I’m not sure I can manage quite that often. _Not to mention, how the hell am I supposed to find the time and place to shag you all the live long day and evening with a house full of people, including my kids, one of which I’m sure is in love with you?_ Harry thought, but didn’t say. How could he?

“I’m sure you can manage. You know you may not have to actually fuck me each time. Sometimes the bond allows for more leniency. It may be satisfied with my coming from just your touch or your mouth.” Scorpius shrugged and looked nervously at the floor, then back at Harry. “But there’s more,” he said interrupting Harry’s rapid decline into insanity. 

He looked up. “What?” Thinking, dear god what else could there be. 

“I will probably have to fuck you at least once for the bond to fully take, especially if we try to force the bond with the other.” 

“What happens if the bond doesn’t take?” Harry asked thinking of the alternatives that Scorpius had just given him. 

“I’ll get even sicker. Once a Veela finds their mate—don’t look at me like that, you know you are.” Scorpius ran the back of his knuckles across Harry’s jaw, the sound against Harry’s morning stubble raspy in the sudden silence. Once a Veela finds their mate and the bonding starts, if it’s not finished, it’s even worse for the Veela. They keep searching for anyone or anything to feel the emptiness in them. Giving themselves repeatedly to anyone and everyone, but nothing and no one will ever satisfy them. Life without the mate becomes too unbearable to continue.” 

Outside the room Harry heard the sound of whispered voices and he knew Lily had joined her brother. Dear Merlin, what was he going to tell them? And how was he ever going to manage to fuck Scorpius every three hours over the next thirty-six? And with Hermione and Ron due for a weekend visit as well? 

The room once again clean, the bed made to look as if only one had spent the night in it, and more importantly, the room once again smelling of potions and disinfectant and not sweat and come. Harry walked towards the door.

He opened it and Al and Lily rushed in. Their joy at their friend glowing with health and vitality was obvious. Another surge of guilt from the previous night churned in Harry’s stomach, he fought down the bile that threatened to spew. It wasn’t his fault, he knew, but how was his going to explain that he had just spent the last hours and would be spending the next twenty-four or more fucking their best friends? The fact that he was 44 and Scorpius barely 17, only added to the problem. 

Silently, Albus stared at Harry for several long moments. He then turned towards Scorpius, and walked towards him, an expression Harry could not define on his face. He placed his hands on Scorpius’s shoulder, watching him, a smile growing across his face. “You’re as beautiful as when we were thirteen and I first knew I loved you,” Albus’s soft smile lighting up his face. 

Scorpius’s cheeks pinked at the words, he returned the smile. 

Albus bent towards Scorpius, his lips close to his ear and whispered. So softly, Harry was unable to hear any of it. Possessiveness and jealousy spiked through Harry like a knife through butter. Scorpius shot a sharp look at Harry, blushed and then nodded shyly at whatever Albus had whispered in his ear. 

Albus pulled back, turning towards Harry, jade green eyes blazing with an intensity that was indecipherable. First pleading and then warning. Pleading for what, warning of what, Harry didn’t know. He tried to look away, but Albus’s gaze held him as if he were actually bound. At last Albus blinked, releasing him. “I’m starving. Come on Lils let’s go get started on breakfast.” 

Lily looked between her father, Scorpius and her brother’s retreating back. At the door she grabbed her brother’s hand and held it tight in hers as they walked away. As the door shut behind them Harry heard her ask, “So, was he right? Is it dad? Are you going to be okay?” 

He never heard Albus’s answer.


	3. Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scorpius Malfoy has long been a frequent guest in the Potter residence. Only this time something was very different, and it was about to change Harry’s life in a way he would never have asked for. But once it had he could never imagine wanting it to be any other way.

Part 3 

Harry collapsed on to the chair. “I’m so fucked.”

“Why? What do you mean?” Scorpius asked.

“Albus. Clearly, Albus is in love with you. I can’t do this.” Harry stood and hurried towards the door, wanting to escape before Scorpius could convince him differently. 

“Of course he is, and I’m in love with him.”

“What?” Harry stopped at the door, his hand on the knob. “What about you and me? What about us? I thought I was your mate.”

“You’re my Veela mate, but Albus is the one I love.” 

“But why me? Why not him? I don’t understand.”

Scorpius half shrugged and walked around the room as if looking for something. Mostly he seemed to not want to catch Harry’s eyes. “I’m not sure. Maybe it’s because I used to have the biggest crush on you growing up. When I first started having feelings of the sexual and physical type, you always had the starring role. And the Veela picked up on that when it was time for it to choose the mate? I’m honestly not sure.” 

Okay, that was a little embarrassing, but he’d heard it before. He’d never understood it, as people his own age, or adults never seemed to have that sort of reaction to him. Why pre-adolescents did was beyond his comprehension. “Hold on. Did you befriend Albus in the hopes of getting to me?” he snarled. The thought of his child being manipulated in that manner lay dark and heavy in his gut. 

“No!” Scorpius snapped. Then quickly returned to where Harry stood, and caught his attention. “Maybe a little, at the beginning, but once I got to know him, it became all about him. I no longer cared that you were his father; it was him I cared for. Over the years, I grew to love him. Now, I can’t imagine being without him. But I know I can’t live, at least not in any way I’d want to, without you." 

Harry stopped, and thought, his heart beating a tattoo, his head pounding with confusion, and jealousy. So much jealousy he saw red. It was wrong, he knew it was wrong, but in that instant Harry hated his son. Harry had to know. He was going to hate the answer, whatever it was, but he had to know. “Have you fucked him?” It came out angrier and more aggressive than he’d intended. 

Scorpius stood and stared at Harry, his expression inscrutable. Harry wasn’t sure if he was going to answer, he was silent for so long. The longer it was before Scorpius spoke the more betrayed Harry felt. 

At last Scorpius answered, “Yes. Or rather he’s fucked me. You should know by now, my preference is pretty much a Bottom Billy. I’m not sure why you should care though. One has nothing to do with the other.”

“How long have the two of you been fucking?” Even Harry flinched at the question. He’d become incapable of stopping himself from asking things that were none of his business. Only he had to know. He couldn’t not know. 

“Only about the last year, but does that really matter? Harry, you have to understand. You’re my Veela mate, and as such I am always going to need you, but Albus is my heart. He fills my soul with joy and happiness, but he does nothing to satisfy the creature in me. Fucking Albus to satisfy the Veela is like trying to fill the Great Lake one teaspoon at a time. It will never be enough.” 

Emotions whirled in Harry, the beginning winds of a tornado that quickly gathered in speed and strength. He meant nothing to Scorpius; he was only something that he needed, a necessity. Like a pair of Wellingtons that were a necessity in the rain and mud, but once they had served their purpose, they were never thought of again. That was all he’d ever be to Scorpius, a pair of Wellies to keep his feet warm and dry. Harry kept the creature in Scorpius tamed. That was his purpose; it was all he’d ever be. While he. . . while he. . .

His chest tightened and his throat closed, the lump in it taking up too much of the space. Determined that he was not going to lose his shit like some school boy in front of Scorpius, Harry headed toward the door, grabbing a shirt off the back of a chair on his way out. 

“Harry?” Scorpius questioned softly. “Are you okay?”

Harry paused at the door, but didn’t turn around. “I’m not sure I can do this anymore. I know you need me, and I really want to help you. I just don’t know if I can. I have to get out of here now.”

“When will you be back?” The tremor he heard in Scorpius’s voice told Harry all he needed to know of Scorpius’s trepidation. Fear that Harry might not return in time. Not, that he might not return at all, but only that he return in time to do what was needed of him. 

He didn’t respond, just walked out the door, down the stairs and out of the house. 

He walked and walked and walked some more, paying no attention to where he was going or the time that was passing. And as he walked, he came to several decisions. Unfortunately, they never stayed the same. They swirled in his mind, first one, then another, only for that one to be supplanted by another.

Tired and in need of a coffee, he ducked into a small tea shop. One of the old-fashioned kinds that while it served coffee, it only came in two versions: caffeine free or fully caffeinated. There was no espresso, no latte, no soy, double-whip mochas, just coffee. As he placed his order -- coffee, caffeinated, thank you-- he couldn’t help noticing the attendant, as well as several of the customers looking at him with knowing smiles on their faces. 

Harry’d gone out of the house so fast, he’d not bothered to check he was properly dressed. He looked down at his clothing wanting to make sure he was properly dressed. He was, but half of the buttons on his shirt were out of alignment, as if he’d been in an extreme hurry, or had been dressed by a four year old. 

He shrugged lightly and took a table in the corner. Surreptitiously, he unbuttoned and then re-buttoned his shirt, properly this time. 

The coffee was hot, bitter and strong. Just what he needed, it strengthened both his mind and his resolve. As the attendant approached with an offer of a refill, Harry came to a decision, a firm one this time. He drained the dregs in the cup, shook his head at the offer, and leaving a ridiculously large tip on the table, he walked out the door. 

He knew what he had to do. It would hurt him in a way he’d not been hurt. It would leave his heart open to be shredded into slivers. But for those he loved—all, of those he loved—he had no other choice.

*** 

Albus met him in the foyer. Livid. Fury flashed across his face. Eyes, so like Harry’s own, burned with an intensity that had never, before now, been directed at Harry. He blanched in the wake of his son’s anger. 

“How could you?” Albus snapped. “How could you leave him like that? Don’t you know what you’re not being here means? How important you are to him right now.” His voice shook with emotion, first anger, then despair. 

"You know?" Harry gasped.

"Of course I know. I’ve known for the past six months. He’s a Veela and he needs his mate.”

"But I thought, I mean. Don’t you want to be his mate?” 

“Of course I do. But I’m not, and nothing can change that. I’d rather see him happy and healthy with someone else than be miserable with me trying to make this mate thing work. He needs you. Just go take care of him.” 

Harry gripped Albus’s arms focusing his son’s attention back to him. “I know. I’m sorry. I’m here now. Where is he?” 

“He’s upstairs, in James’ room, where you were last night.” Albus deflated in front of Harry, the air being released from a balloon. “He says it reminds him of you.” Albus’s voice barely reached Harry. “Dad, he’s really in a bad way, like last night. I only left him when I heard the door opening. Go to him, give him what he needs, please,” his son pleaded. 

Harry knew Scorpius needed him, but first he had to make sure Albus truly understood. “Albus you know what we’re doing. Are you positive you’re okay with it? I’d never want to do anything to cause you pain. You know that, right?” 

“You’d hurt me a lot more if you didn’t, and he got worse. We can talk about the particulars later, but now, you really need to get up those stairs.” 

“How long has it been?” Harry called out as he headed up the stairs. 

“About three and a half hours. It’s past the time.”

“Fuck!” Harry raced the rest of the way up the stairs and into the room. 

Even worse than the night before, Scorpius lay curled on the bed shaking violently. His stomach clenching and unclenching the same way it had last night. His fingers already fully transformed into talons. Though there was no sign of the wings, Harry could make out the pulsing of the nubs under Scorpius’s shirt. It was only a matter of time, seconds’ maybe, before they unfurled in all their glory. 

A quick intake of breath behind him alerted Harry to the presence of another. He turned. Albus looked over Harry’s shoulder and beyond. His sight fixed on Scorpius’s fingers, staring at them in shock and horror. “Dad? What are those?” he whispered quietly. 

“They’re his talons. Haven’t you seen them before,” Harry asked, incredulous when Albus shook his head. 

“They come out when the Veela is gaining in strength. Haven’t you noticed how the wings don’t usually come out until the Veela is finally getting what it wants?” 

“Wings? He has wings?” Albus’s tone was one of complete awe.

“You’ve never seen them?” Harry’s shock deepened. They’d made an appearance every time they’d been together, and were about to erupt again. 

“Only the Veela’s mate can ever see the wings,” Scorpius said in hushed tone. “Nor can they be described or drawn. The wings belong solely to the mate. He shouldn’t even know about them, no one should.”

“Of course, I can describe them. They’re…erm, I mean well…” Harry started and then stopped. He knew exactly what the wings were like, could see them in his memory, hear them, and smell them, feel the stirring of the air when they fluttered around him. But when he tried to put words to the memories and vision that filled his mind, he couldn’t. 

Harry was speechless. Could this be true? Were those beautiful wings, only for him? Harry had never felt so honoured and so blessed. Beyond the reach of language, he had no words. There was only action.

“Albus, it’s time for you to leave,” Scorpius was his mate, and Harry was going to claim that right. No longer the passive one, no longer would he wait for Scorpius. Harry would take what was his by right of the bond. 

He walked across the room and opened the door, directing his son to leave. Behind Albus’s departure, Harry locked the door casting a _Silencio_ as he did. Harry then turned back toward Scorpius who remained on the bed, his stomach still contracting and releasing, his attention focused on Harry. 

Harry approached the bed, stripping slowly as he did. Once there he turned Scorpius onto his side, soothing him as he had before. The moment he’d touched Scorpius, butterflies, bright and beautiful, began flying around his head. Birds commenced singing and bunnies frolicked in the garden of his mind. All from one stupid touch of this young man he held in his arms. Harry was in deep, and there was nothing he could do about it. But do what he had to. 

Scorpius again, erupted into sickness, spewing bile everywhere. Not even twenty four hours had passed since their relationship had begun, yet already Harry knew he was lost. Too far gone, and too late to turn back. Once he was sure the nausea was past, Harry cleaned the bed and linens of all remnants. He then took a warm flannel from the bath and slowly and gently removed all evidence of Scorpius’s illness. 

Harry gathered Scorpius in his arms, rocking him like a small child, repeating over and over. “Shh, it’s okay. You’re fine. I’m here now. I’m so sorry. You’re fine. I’m going to take care of you. I’ll always take care of you.” As he spoke, his heart contracted and broke all over again. 

He then laid Scorpius down in the center of the bed and knelt back on his haunches staring at the vision before him. Scorpius’s cock, hard and leaking, curved up and around, resting near the juncture of thigh and hip, those long legs again calling out to Harry. 

Crawling between them, he placed his hands on each side of Scorpius’s shoulders and hovered over him. His arms supporting all his weight, Harry lowered down and pressed his lips against Scorpius’s, tracing the seam of Scorpius’s lips with his tongue. His movements light and non-threatening, slowly he increased the pressure, increased the tension and increased the amount and depth of tongue. With each change, Scorpius adjusted perfectly. Together they engaged in the slick-slide thrust of tongue dancing. 

Scorpius moaned in response, tilting his groin up and pressed against Harry’s looking for answering pressure. Not yet ready for that, Harry held back. He wanted more of Scorpius’s taste; wanted to brand it on his tongue and in his memory. He continued to kiss and lick and nibble the upper lip, the lower lips, the chin and the curve of the jaw, the clavicle and the small indention just below the Adam’s apple, anywhere he could reach. At last he thought it just might be enough, but even with all that, he didn’t know if he could make Scorpius understand exactly what this moment meant for Harry. 

Pupils completely blown, Scorpius writhed below him. His face flushed a glorious pink, breaths coming in short and shallow, he panted. “Harry, enough! Fuck me already, I need it.” 

“Can you control your wings?” Harry asked. “Maybe keep them from erupting until we’re ready.” 

“I… I don’t know.” His confused expression a clear indication he thought Harry’s timing on this was a bit off. “Why?” 

Harry smiled down at him. “It’s the best time in the world to ask that,” answering the unasked question, “I want to be able to look at you, to read the desire and passion in your expression when you come, to whispered on your lips, while I make love to you.” 

In answer, Scorpius spread his legs raising his arms in invitation. 

Harry knelt back and reached for the lube. Once they were both slicked and prepared, Harry moved forward again. His arms slid under Scorpius’s knees and raised them, pushing them back against his chest. Spread open, like that Scorpius was a thing of beauty. 

He inched forward lifting Scorpius’s legs with his arms and placing them over his shoulders. The urge for this had stayed with him since early morning. The head of his cock lined up ready to begin the slow slide or quick thrust into Scorpius’s passage, Harry paused. He held this position until Scorpius looked up at him in confusion. 

Harry caught his focus and held it. Never letting it go, he pushed in. All the way, never stopping, never slowing, until he was fully seated, his balls resting against Scorpius. Scorpius grunted at the intrusion, closing his eyes to accommodate the adjustment. “No,” Harry demanded. “Don’t close your eyes. Look at me. _See me.”_ He stilled and waited until Scorpius opened his eyes and again looked into Harry’s. 

Then Harry fucked him. The pace slow and steady, each movement deep and thorough, Harry kept control. He kept the pace, he was in charge. His gaze remaining on Scorpius, capturing him with the love he knew was shining bright in his eyes. Moving inside him, with each roll of his hips, Harry communicated to Scorpius how much this meant to him. 

Tears began to slide out of the corner of Scorpius’s eyes. Blinking rapidly, he tried to stop them from running down his face and onto the pillow. 

Aghast, Harry stopped. “Scorpius? What’s wrong? I’m so sorry if I’ve hurt you in any way. I would never. I love --.” 

“You love me.” Scorpius finished for him. “I know you do. That’s what so fucked up about this. Everything you do tells me you love me. You weren’t supposed to fall in love with me.”

“So what, I was just supposed to fuck you and then be done with you. Toss you aside like so much used rubbish. I don’t work like that. Sure I’ve fucked people in the past and never saw them again, had one-nighters. But with you, it’s different. You’re different. I know you, I’ve cared for you even before. Now after this… after these last few hours, you expect… You expect me _not_ to have fallen in love with you. You ask too much of me.”

“Yes. I mean no. I mean, this wasn’t supposed to have happened this way. And it’s wrong. This whole mate thing is wrong, and it’s so fucked up. You deserve so much more than this; someone who can love you in return.” He scrubbed the back of his hand across his face and eyes. “I wish it could be me. I really do. But I don’t and I can’t. I’d give anything to it to have been different. There’s not a damn thing I can do about it, but keep using you. I bloody hate it.”

“Why don’t you let me be the one to worry about what I deserve and what I don’t?” Harry interrupted. 

Scorpius continued to fume silently, but gave a short nod. 

“Permission to speak,” Harry asked, his expression serious except for the grin he carried. 

Scorpius scowled, but remained silent. Harry took that as a yes. 

“Okay, here’s the way I see it. I get to hold the most incredibly gorgeous young man in my arms. And I get to fuck him, you, on a regular and rather frequent basis.” Scorpius blushed, not at the reference to fucking, Harry knew, but at the compliment Harry had just given him. Unable to help himself, Harry stopped talking long enough to lean in and kiss him breathless. 

When he pulled back, Scorpius was again smiling, his eyes glazed over with passion. Harry continued on, “I’m currently balls deep inside you, and if the flush on your face is anything to go by, you’ve got no complaints. I don’t know about anyone else, but I call that a win, any way you look at it.”

Harry stopped swallowing down the wave of emotion that threatened to choke him, the pressure on his cock still inside Scorpius indescribable, but still he held back. How, he didn’t know. “Would I prefer for you to love me as much as I love you? Of course. I’d be stupid to say otherwise, but since that’s not an option, I will take you any way I can.” He paused for effect then said with an over exaggerated moan. “Now please can we get back to the business at hand, cause I really need to fuck you through the other side of this mattress.” Harry rolled his hips, a full stop punctuation, thrusting deep into Scorpius indicating this conversation was over. It was time to return to the action. 

*** 

Entwined on the bed together, basking in the afterglow, Harry rhythmically ran his fingers through the feathers of Scorpius wings draped around the two of them. They were so soft and luxurious, like satin. He’d just come not ten minutes ago, but the texture of the wings under his fingertips had his cock thinking it might be ready for another round. He turned, just as Scorpius turned towards him as well. They grinned at one another and leaned in for a kiss. Sharp knocking at the door and the rattle of the door knob sprung them apart. 

“Hey guys, I’m sor--” 

Scorpius leapt from the bed, his face an ugly snarl of absolute panic. “Get the fuck away from the door! Albus don’t you dare open that door. Get away!” 

“Scor? Is everything okay? Has he hurt you” Albus growled. _What? Did his own son think that Harry would hurt anyone, especially Scorpius?_ “I’m coming--”

“Damn you Albus. I said go away,” Scorpius screeched again. Then his voice roughened with despair, choked with fear. “Please, Albus go away. I’m fine, just don’t open that door. Please stay away.” 

“Okay, but I just wanted to tell dad that Mum and Oliver _flooed_ in. They stopped by on their way to see James and Teddy in Romania. They’re waiting downstairs.” With each word his voice got quieter and quieter until it was almost impossible to hear him. “I tried to tell them you were with a patient, but they seem determined to wait. I’m not sure how much longer I can stall them.”

Silence reigned on both sides of the door for a moment. “Fine I’ll go away. I hope the two of you enjoy the rest of your evening. I’ll just tell them you’re too busy fucking to come see them.” The soft voice of hurt and confusion had quickly turned into one of anger. Harry knew that his son would already be chewing on his lower lip, gnawing at the skin. “You could at least bother to answer me,” he heard Albus mutter under his breath as he walked away. Harry was too shocked by Scorpius’s panicked anger to do or say anything. 

During this transaction, Scorpius’s entire appearance had undergone a transition. His fingers were not just shaped like talons but were talons. Claws prepared to rip out the heart of its worst enemy. Sharp and deadly and surprisingly long, one swipe of them could cause serious damage. The wings had grown, expanded, but no longer soft and beautiful. They were now ruffled and –well –angry looking. Scorpius looked poised for attack. “Tell them whatever the fuck you want to tell them. Just get the bloody fuck away from here,” Scorpius growled. Seconds later they could hear Albus running down the stairs and the door to the back garden open and then slammed shut. 

“What the fuck was that all about?” Harry at last found his voice. 

Several seconds passed before Scorpius turned to him. Stark despair battled with a protective rage. “The wings, he would have seen the wings.” 

“So?” 

“Didn’t you hear me when I said only the mate can see the wings?”

“Well, yes, but I thought you meant they wouldn’t come out when someone else was around.” 

He sighed, “It does, but if they wings are already out, like this,” Scorpius moved his shoulders just the slightest and the wings fluttered and expanded to full size. “And if another comes upon them, or barges into a locked room. . ." He stopped unable to continue.

“What happens if they do?”

“I’ll kill them. I mean the creature in me will do everything it can to destroy them.” 

“You’re kidding.”

“No, I’m serious. Deadly serious. Only the Veela’s mate is allowed to see the wings. It’s a survival thing; it keeps others from seeing the beauty of the Veela and wanting to take it away from its mate. They have to be destroyed, torn apart, ripped limb from limb. It won’t stop until it’s done.” He looked up at Harry, his face pale and determined. “Harry, Albus can never, ever see these. He wasn’t supposed to even know about the wings. Now that he does, he’s never going to stop thinking about them.” 

“You know this for a fact?” Harry whispered.

In answer, Scorpius turned his left side towards Harry and lifted his arm up and over his head. There along the inner arm, a couple of inches south of the elbow and running down his arm, under arm and long his side to the bottom of his ribs, were three evenly spaced scars. They were healed over but even so they were still bright red, and it was easy to see that whatever weapon had done it, it had gone deep in the muscle. 

“I’ve never seen these before.” Harry reached out his hand and ran his fingertips lightly over them. 

Scorpius winced and lowered his arm. “I usually keep them glamoured. If anyone sees them, they ask questions. It’s not something I can easily talk about.”

“What happened? What are those?”

“When I was little, about five or so, my mother attacked me.”

“What?” Harry started, shocked at what he was hearing. The look on Scorpius’s face stopped Harry’s outburst; he sat back and waited. 

“I remember it was storming and I was afraid of the thunder, so I ran into my father’s room. He used to let crawl into bed with him when it stormed. I didn’t know she was there that weekend. I didn’t know I wasn’t supposed to be in the same room when they were together—like they were—like we sometimes are.” His voice grew tight and shrill, the terror and doubt even now causing him pain. “I didn’t know that it could be dangerous. I didn’t know she could do something like this.” He lifted his arm and again Harry saw the ragged scars.

Even now twelve years later, Harry could hear, could feel, could almost taste the fear of it in Scorpius’s voice. He wanted to reach out and comfort Scorpius, yet Scorpius had already made it clear he wanted no comfort at this time. So he waited and hoped Scorpius knew he was there for him. 

“There was nothing I could do. Dad was able to get her away from me, turned her towards him instead. Once she was off of me, he yelled at me to run, to get out of there. I ran to Mimsy, one of our house-elves who immediately took me to a Wizarding hospital in France.” 

All the time Scorpius had been telling his tale, he had remained stoic and unemotional, but unable to look at Harry. He stared at some vague point on the wall across from them. Reaching the end, he turned to Harry, his expression a wreck of emotions. “She was my mother, my mum, and yet she was still able to do this to me. I’m not sure if she even knew it was me in there. All she knew was that there was a potential threat to the Veela bond. If she could do this to me, what do you think would happen with Albus?

Again, for the second time in as many hours, Harry was without words. He could only take Scorpius into his arms and hold him against his chest and comfort him as best he could.


	4. Part 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scorpius Malfoy has long been a frequent guest in the Potter residence. Only this time something was very different, and it was about to change Harry’s life in a way he would never have asked for. But once it had he could never imagine wanting it to be any other way.
> 
> Harry find an unexpected ali when an old enemy makes a surprise floo call.

Part 4 

 

By the time Harry and Scorpius got downstairs, Ginny and Oliver had already left. Albus had disappeared into the back garden, curled up in the branches of the hawthorn tree, his favourite place to hide when the rest of the world became too much for him. Scorpius and Harry separated at the back door, Scorpius to go and speak with Albus, while Harry prepared for the upcoming evening. Harry had volunteered to go with Scorpius, but Scorpius had felt this was more of a thing he needed to do alone. First he had to apologise for and explain his outburst. But how to make Albus understand that the wings was just one more thing that Albus would never be able to experience. It was something he’d hoped he’d never have to do. 

What Albus and Scorpius talked about, Harry never knew. He hoped one of the things was the seriousness of Albus’s need to stay away from any possibility of seeing the wings. He understood the insatiable craving to witness the forbidden that would drive his son; he could only pray that self-preservation would win out in the end. Whatever Scorpius said, it worked. When they emerged together an hour later, they were holding hands and both smiling as if they were nothing but smitten adolescents growing into young men in love. 

Then Ron and Hermione brought along George and Angelina when they came for dinner. Luckily, by this time Lily had been filled in on what was going on. Between her and Albus they kept up a steady stream of conversation and distraction whenever Scorpius needed Harry. Harry hoped their absences wouldn’t be that noticeable. 

It was almost laughable the number of times they were almost caught. Each time they returned, Harry was more and more exhausted, and Scorpius more striking. And always Hermione watched them, disapproval covering her face. 

Once again, Scorpius stood and walked toward the stairs leading to the next level, nodding at Harry as he walked past. Harry closed his eyes, gathering his strength then waiting a few seconds, at last he stood to follow him.

Hermione blocked his path. “Not now Hermione,” he sighed, attempting to go around her. 

“Harry, what are you doing?” she demanded. “Don’t scowl at me like that. I’ve been watching you. I know you’re shagging Scorpius. Anyone with eyes to see can see that the two of you are fucking, quite often too. Even Ron is starting to get suspicious.” She held Harry in her gaze. “He’s young enough to be your son. Don’t you know Albus is in love with him?” 

“Of course, I know Hermione. I’d be an even worse father than I am if I didn’t. But this can’t be helped.” Scorpius would be wondering where he was, the Veela in him growing in strength while Harry argued with Hermione. “Scorpius needs me. I have to go.” 

Hermione was waiting for him when he stumbled down the stairs twenty minutes later, so drained he could barely walk. Her expression was grim. Harry could hear the others’ chatter and laughter coming from the front room. At least she hadn’t brought in reinforcements. 

Then Scorpius came tripping down the steps, fairly glowing with health and happiness and renewed vigor. Understanding flooded Hermione’s expression, and she turned to Harry with apology on her face. “He’s a Veela, isn’t he?” 

Harry nodded.

“And you’re his mate.”

Harry let out a long and drawn out breath. At last there was someone he could talk to about this. “I am. But you’re right; Albus is in love with him, has been since third year.” 

“Oh Harry.” Hermione’s voice echoed all the heartbreak he’d been feeling himself. 

“But, hey, the good news is Albus has given us permission to fuck eight ways from sundown every two to three hours. Because he loves Scorpius and only wants to see him happy, and if my shagging him is what Scorpius needs to be healthy. Well that’s okay.” Conflict and doubt raged in Harry. He was afraid he’d break, just sit down and bawl. Only he hadn’t cried in years, not since his marriage to Ginny had ended. “And I…” he stopped unable to continue.

“You love him, don’t you?” Hermione said wonderingly.

“I do.”

“Since when?”

“Actually for years, I just didn’t comprehend it. It’s like it was with Ginny. Remember how I never paid her any attention, she was just Ron’s younger sister, and always around, only it turned out that I had been slowly falling for her and hadn’t realised it. It took seeing her with Dean for me to accept how I felt.” 

Hermione nodded, but didn’t say anything.

“It’s like that. Scorpius was this kid that was always at the house, every winter break and summer holidays. He was Albus’s and Lily’s friend. But he was my friend, too. We talked, we shared things. I watched him grown into the exceptional young man that he is today. Then this Veela thing happened, and I got to hold him in my arms, kiss him, and. . . ” He stopped at the rush of memory of Scorpius’s long legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him in deeper. “I’m sorry. I don’t think I want to share anymore.” 

“It’s okay, Harry. I’m just as glad you don’t,” she said with a small smile. 

“And I knew, as surely as when I knew that I loved Ginny, that I love him. Do you know? I’ve only ever loved, in a romantic sort of way, two people in my life, Gin and now him.” Harry laid his head on her shoulder, resting against her. “Hermione, what am I supposed to do?

She didn’t answer, just laid her head against his. 

***

Harry sat in the chair removing his shoes and socks for what he hoped would be the last time that day. Ron and Hermione and the others had left. Somehow he’d managed to keep his secret from the rest of them. Though Ron did spend more time than Harry was comfortable with, looking at him in that way that he had. As if trying to figure out just exactly what it was he had missed. Hermione would most likely fill him in, but Harry thought the others would probably be kept in the dark. 

He wondered how many more times they would be doing this. With each shag, Scorpius became more and more important to him. The thought that it was all going to end one day, was almost more than he could bear. 

“How long does this continue?”

“What? Oh you mean how long do we have to fuck like rabbits?”

Harry nodded his head slightly, snorting in laughter. “Yeah, that.”

“Like I said before, the bond is usually set in between twenty four and thirty six hours, but after the first twenty four hours the fucking doesn’t have to be as frequent. Already, I feel the Veela coming more under my control. The insane, almost blood-thirsty desire for your touch is lessening.” 

_Already?_ The dismay Harry felt must have shown, as Scorpius quickly said, “But not yet.” 

“What happens then? What happens to me, when you no longer need me?” 

“Veelas always require their mate, just not as often. The bond will have to be reset, usually about every one to three weeks, the average being every two weeks.” 

Harry grew silent. He’d grown so used to Scorpius, had come to love the feel of him, on him, around him, under him, all of it. How was he supposed to go back to being without? 

“Will you go back to fucking Albus?” he asked. He knew he shouldn’t; the answer would most likely break him. But he had to know. 

Scorpius laid his hand on Harry’s arm, capturing his attention. Harry tried to look away, he knew what was coming, but Scorpius wouldn’t let him. Only one word was said, only one word was need. “Always.” 

***

The door opened and the light from the hallway spilled through, along with Lily. He’d never noticed the room growing darker until the brightness of the light momentarily blinded him. “There’s my Lily girl,” he said softly. “Come sit.” He patted the space on the chair next to him. Big enough for two, it was the same chair he and Scorpius had used. It had become Harry’s favourite chair. 

Down the hall, he could hear them. She turned and drew it closed behind her, but it was too late. Already he had heard the soft sound of bed clothes rustling, the squeak of the mattress as Albus and Scorpius settled into place. Without having to hear it, he knew what came next. He’d only had to hear it the one time for it to be embedded forever in his brain. 

After all he’d been hearing it for days now, but had he really been hearing it, or was it only the memory of the first few days. When Albus and Scorpius making up for lost time, the time Scorpius had been with Harry, had forgotten to set the silencing spells. He’d only done what they wanted, what they’d asked. He’d only given his heart. Next, he knew, would come the whispered words of “love you”, “need you,” and “please, more”, “yes, oh gods,” and “Fuck, yes, that’s it,” followed by the rhythmic sound of bed springs squeaking and the headboard butting against the wall. It didn’t matter if he was actually hearing them, or if it was all in his head. He still knew what was happening behind those closed doors. 

They never used a silencing spell. Intentional or just forgetful, he was never sure. It’d been a week since Scorpius returned to Albus’s bed. There was no need for them to hide it any longer. A week that’s been the hardest thing Harry’s ever had to go through, since the splitting up of his family. Ginny and James deciding to move to Scotland to be with Oliver, while he and Albus and Lily had made the cottage their new home. 

Lily curled up next to him. She put her head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Daddy.”

“Sorry about what, Lily-love?” But he knew what she was talking about.

“We should’ve never got you involved. Never had you be the one.”

“But, don’t you see? I am the one. It had to be me. It doesn’t matter what you wanted, or what you intended, it was always going to be me.” 

“We never thought you’d fall so hard for him.”

“It came as a bit of shock to me as well. You know there’s this famous poem, and the line that’s most often quoted is about how ‘It is better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all’, or something along those lines.” 

“What a load of crup crap,” Lily said.

Harry laughed. “Crup crap? No, it’s not. It’s true. I wouldn’t change anything of what’s happened. Well, okay, some of it. I’m pretty sure I’d not have chosen Albus being in love with him, or him with Albus. Those I would have changed. But we learn to take what we can. I’m still his Veela mate, and as such I know I will be able to hold him again, I’ll still be able to… well never mind about that.”

Lily grimaced and then giggled. “Daddy! That’s gross. I mean, I know you do. But I don’t want to think about you, you know, my father doing it.” She gave a mock shudder, and then laid her head back on Harry’s shoulder. 

 

Together they sat in the deepening darkness, their thoughts their own. 

***

Harry felt as nervous as a schoolboy before his first date. Two weeks had passed since he and Scorpius had last been together. Two weeks since the bond had been established, but some of the symptoms had returned. The bond needed resetting. Once Scorpius and Albus returned from their date later this evening, Scorpius would be moving into Harry’s room, but only for long enough to reset the bond. 

Showered and shaved, even scented with some sort of man’s cologne, something he never did, Harry felt more foolish than he had in years. He was a grown man, for fuck’s sake. But Scorpius needed him and the truth was anytime Harry thought of Scorpius, or saw him or heard his voice, a riot of joy exploded in Harry’s heart. Alive and energized, so much joy and celebration, a building excitement buzzing through him, he wanted to shout it from the rooftops. 

The darkness of the room growing as the sun set, he’d not yet bothered to turn the lights on. The Floo suddenly whooshed to life. “Potter, what are you doing sitting in the dark?” asked a voice he seldom heard anymore, but recognised immediately. 

Harry’s head snapped up. “Malfoy?” Harry replied, incredulous.

Draco Malfoy really was squatting in Harry’s Floo connection. Even more surprisingly he was smiling. Something was up. It had to be. Was he here to cut Harry in little pieces? Well, he’d just have to wait. Scorpius was going to be spending the next two or maybe three nights in Harry’s bedroom and nothing, not even Draco Malfoy was going to keep Harry from being there. 

“Can I come through?” 

“What? Why?” Harry’s suspicions instantly increased.

“I want to measure your windows for drapery,” Malfoy snarked, sarcastic as always. “If you must know, I want to take you out for a beverage of your choice.” 

"Again, he asks. Why?” Harry said to the disembodied head in his fireplace. 

“That’s what friends do. They go out together.”

“We’re not friends. Besides, I have plans for tonight.”

“No, but I think we could be. I know exactly what you’re going through.” Malfoy smiled at him, not a smirk, but a real smile. Harry was momentarily stunned. “I also know your plans aren’t scheduled to begin until after Albus brings Scorpius back to your place. Don’t expect them any time soon.” 

“You have no idea what I’m going through. How could you?”

Malfoy was silent for so long Harry thought maybe he’d decided to not pursue this any further. Which was alright by Harry, he only wanted to fantasize about the upcoming evening. 

“I’m Astoria’s Veela mate, but not the person she loves,” Malfoy said at last.

The conversation he’d had with Scorpius about his mother being home the weekend she had attacked him returning to his memory, Harry nodded. “Yes, Scorpius mentioned that she didn’t normally stay with you. If he hadn’t of told me about that I would have thought he’d inherited it from you. I mean I just assumed.” 

“No it’s the Greengrass’s. Cho Chang is her life-mate,” Malfoy chuckled then said, “Found me irresistible did you?” Thought it was my Veela charms that were driving you mad, huh.” 

“Cho? Really?” Harry let that piece of information toss and tumble around in his head, then realised what Draco had just said. “What? No.” He could feel himself start to blush, though why he wasn’t exactly sure. Then remembering what Draco had said about knowing exactly what Harry was going through. “Do you love Astoria?” he asked unexpectedly, wondering how he could after what she had almost done to his son. 

Malfoy sighed, his expression softening. “Desperately. Look, is it alright if I come through? I’m getting knee cramps squatting like this.” 

“Oh, yeah. Come on.” Malfoy stumbled as he came through, and Harry held out his hand to steady him. Once he’d brushed off the Floo powder, Malfoy looked more closely at Harry and whistled appreciatively. “I must say, you clean up rather nicely. Come on we need to get you out of here.” 

Harry felt his cheeks go pink. “Erm thanks,” he said, hoping Scorpius would also approve of the black jeans and bright red jumper Harry had chosen to wear. He’d once made an off-handed comment that he thought scarlet would be a good colour on Harry. 

Malfoy held out his hand. "I've got the perfect place." 

Once at the pub, their drinks on the bar, Harry asked, “How do you stand it? I mean knowing that they’d rather be with the other one, but have to be with you.” 

“Would you rather not have him at all?” Malfoy asked solemnly. 

Harry shook his head. “No, I can’t imagine life without him.” 

Malfoy sat playing with his glass for a few moments, turning it first one way than the other, attempting to balance it on its edge. Harry was sure he had something he wanted to say, so he waited. At last Malfoy spoke, “You know, Potter, the nights can get very long and very lonely while you sit at home waiting for your Veela to return to you. You might find it good policy to find someone to keep your evenings occupied while you’re waiting. Someone, who knows and accepts that they’ll always be second choice.” 

“What? Are you offering?" Harry said with a laugh, shocked that Malfoy could even be talking about such things.

Malfoy smiled at him, “Could be.” Then raised the glass to his lips and drank. 

 

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it. The end. I hope you enjoyed reading it, as much as I enjoyed writing it.
> 
> I'd love to hear your thoughts.


End file.
